This way to Paradise! (Part 2)

May 25 to June 1, 2012

Canyon Creek Trail, Trinity Alps Wilderness, California
18 miles roundtrip
Gallery : Video

Towering walls of granite, silver streams, alpine lakes, waterfall after waterfall.. this place has it all.

We missed the turnoff to our destination, Canyon Creek Road to the Canyon Creek trailhead, en route to the Canyon Creek Lakes. Reassuring directions via kind local outside of convenience store: "Take a left onto this road here out in front of you and that'll dead-end at the trail. Stay on the road 'cause the dope growers will shoot you." A German shepherd got a bit too close to my open driver's side window, and there were plenty of 'private property-keep out!' signs on the way up. One of the numerous advantages of driving a 17 year old car to your hiking destination is you usually don't need to worry about getting broken into. And the fact that our 'custom' ignition pops out of the steering wheel for easy storage in the trunk means there's a pretty good chance we will be seeing our little car when we return to the parking lot.

Daytime: The red branches and green leaves of the manzanita, the snow, rocky peaks and scattered trees, tiny lavender flower bunches, glittering black, white and diamond granite, the breeze and the bigness of it all. Rattlesnake sighting, poison oak, scenic viewpoint with Mr. Crab. The first creek we crossed gleamed silver like some sort of counter-top treasure. Love that that we are able to cover so much ground this summer and see so many different areas. Hate that the itinerary locked us out of exploring this wilderness a bit more; Boulder, Lost, and Grizzly Lakes, and the peaks that stare down at them from on high.

Evening: I can smell the fire he's starting; he can smell the wild rice soup that I'm cooking up. I'm dreaming of french bread and butter and a side salad with juicy slices of heirloom tomatoes. We discuss important things. What if a ship just came down this creek? A big boat, like a yacht, right past our tent? Ship captain: "..Uhhh, let me check my compass and uhh, my map.. Let's see, so, yes, that's not supposed to be there" (bottom scraping, tree branches breaking). Jerky never tasted so good. Our wilderness-kitchen introduction of other invasive species includes hot cocoa mix and marshmallows, grain-alcohol, and mayonnaise and mustard drenched tuna fish. Taste buds bedazzled, scent of fire and evergreen, waterfall mist, riverly incantations, and vivacious ambiance in her eyes.

Night-time: Another beautiful thing about summer backpacking = no need for a rain fly. Campfire experiences are something that are becoming rarer in our journeys, as we tack on more mileage by day and and rest by the light of the cosmos. Here we are gifted with low mileage, increasingly longer May days, and a campsite stocked with deadwood gathered by the Memorial Day crowd that came before us. Transfer two fire-warmed, sustenance-filled bodies directly to mummy bags and we candles will keep through the night. At the witching hour, these little eyes peek out to glimpse the pre-twilight final acts. The moon shines down from a navy blue sky and illuminates our campsite as if we were stars in our own private talent show with the meadow as the stage. Our talent at this point, of course, is more sleep.

Trickling, bubbling, roaring, hissing, lapping, drip-drop, splat, 
the sound of combing or brushing hair, a crowd cheering and applauding, laughing. 

Follow a river, sit by a lake, watch water fall, hear the sounds that water can make.

-Sugar Glider & Grasshopper